


Cold, but Still Cozy

by melliejellie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 3rd gym boys, Blanket Forts, Domestic Fluff, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Fresh snow, M/M, Onesies, Snowed In, Wine, Winter, at some point they'll all be together, coffee shop AU, cold and cozy bingo, fresh cookies, meet cute, scarf sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:53:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21699547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melliejellie/pseuds/melliejellie
Summary: A collection of ficlets written for a winter-themed haikyuu prompt "bingo." All fluffy winter fun.Ships will be our 3rd gym boys, but I put them in a circle and basically play spin the bottle to see who's dating/married to whom in each ficlet. Ships will be noted in the top note for each.Hope you catch some cozy feels!
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Kuroo Tetsurou, Akaashi Keiji/Tsukishima Kei, Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou/Tsukishima Kei, Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 51
Kudos: 177
Collections: Haikyuu Cold and Cozy Bingo





	1. Snowed In + bokutsukki

**Author's Note:**

> ship: bokutsukki  
> prompt: "snowed in"  
> (I know, really creative title, right?)
> 
> My first bokutsukki! *gets up on stage, taps the mic* yes, yes, I'd like to thank my twitter friends for getting me into this ship.

On Saturday morning, Tsukishima tries to sleep in - which means he makes a valiant effort to go back to sleep even after Bokuto’s warmth has left the bed. But, like always, he finds it impossible to sleep without his personal furnace, no matter how many blankets he piles on top of his body. It might be easier if he actually slept in some clothes, but he tried that. With the way Bokuto clings to him while they sleep, he was far too hot and, well, Bokuto didn’t appreciate the extra effort required to occasionally unwrap a morning surprise when he was in the mood.

So, Tsukishima slips out of bed and, as quickly as humanly possible, pulls on his warmest sweatpants, fluffy socks, a long-sleeve shirt, and one of Bokuto’s college hoodies. The arms are too short, but it’s his favorite.

He steps out of the bedroom to find Bokuto standing in front of their living room window, staring out into the grey sky in a flimsy tank top tightly stretched around his torso, like it’s not the dead of winter. At the sound of Tsukishima’s footsteps, he whips his head around.

Bokuto looks bummed. “I was looking forward to my long Saturday run,” he says, his lips turning into a soft frown. Tsukishima lifts an eyebrow in question and Bokuto motions towards the window, spinning back around to look at the apparent source of his mood. “There’s no way I can go out in _that_.”

Tsukishima crosses the room and, before he even gets to the window, he can see the blanket of snow piling up outside. And the grey he saw? That wasn’t the sky. That was a wall of thick clumps of snow coming down to further cover their neighborhood.

He clicks his tongue. “I had errands to run today.”

“My Saturday run is way more fun than errands.”

“Torturing yourself by running on pavement _in the winter_ is far from fun,” Tsukishima replies, a grin on his lips as he stares back out into the, yea he can call it that now, blizzard.

He feels two heavy arms wrap around his middle, under his arms, as Bokuto hugs him from behind, tucking his chin against Tsukishima’s neck. 

Tsukishima has only about three seconds to appreciate the warmth of the moment before Bokuto blows a raspberry on his neck. He squirms but Bokuto holds him tighter, pressing a sloppy kiss against the spot instead this time. Tsukishima laughs and lazily tries again to break free, not really wanting to get out of the hold anyway. “Guess I’ll have to torture you instead - all day!”

Tsukishima hums, “Mmm, that doesn’t sound so bad.” He yawns, stretching his arms, “but can it start later? There’s no longer a reason to be out of bed now, right?” He lets his arms fall, reaching one back to ruffle the soft strands of Bokuto’s unstyled hair.

Bokuto seems to take a moment to think it over. He kisses Tsukishima’s neck once more before pulling away. “After breakfast,” he announces. Tsukishima turns so he can see him. Bokuto’s smile is already firmly back in place. “I’ll eat and then come back to bed.”

“Deal, but don’t take long.”

“No promises. I wake up hungry.”

Tsukishima smiles and closes the short distance between them to give him their first proper kiss of the morning. “I know you do,” he says fondly before starting to make his way back to the comfort of their bed.

***

When Tsukishima wakes up for the second time that day, he's much more rested and much less freezing. He’s lying on his back with one of Bokuto’s legs is tangled up with his and one of his husband’s muscular arms is wrapped tightly around him, locking both of his owns arms in place. Tsukishima closes his eyes again and snuggles impossibly closer. If it’s going to snow all day, he can’t think of a better way to spend it.

Bokuto’s breathing heavily beside him, and little puffs of breath tickle his neck. He carefully wrestles one arm free so he can place his hand on top of Bokuto’s, taking a moment to trace his fingers along his hard-working hands. They’re rough, but soft when they need to be.

Against their window he can hear the sounds of the thick, clumps of snow hitting the glass as the howling wind makes him thankful for his warm bedroom, his happy home.

He’s rested. He’s slept more than enough for one night. And yet he feels sleep tugging at his eyelids again. _I’ll just rest my eyes_ , he thinks, knowing it’s a lie.

***

By the time they manage to actually start their day, it’s after noon. Tsukishima can’t remember the last time both of them were home this long with nothing to do. Their lives have been so hectic lately - work, visiting family, plus Tsukishima decided to go back to school for a Masters degree starting in the spring, so there’s all of that prep work. They see each other, of course, but they’re tired. Even as they continue to encourage one another to keep climbing, to do more, a snow day is a perfect reminder to slow down. To just stop.

Cuddled on the couch, they watch two movies they missed in theaters. Then they decide that focusing on new plots is too much brain power for the day and they put on an old favorite from when they first started dating.

Tsukishima’s always the little spoon on the couch. He insists. Bokuto never complains.

They snack on garbage throughout the afternoon. Chips. Too-sweet coffee. Popcorn. Store-bought cookies that taste great when dipped in milk. A bag of baby carrots that Bokuto grabs because “we need something more than salt and sugar.”

After the sun sets, even Tsukishima agrees that his body might need more to live on than couch-cuddles and sugar.

“What do we even have to eat?” He gets off the couch and stretches, moving for the first time in a few hours. When his shirt rides up, Bokuto quickly kisses the exposed skin and Tsukishima laughs, batting him away.

He turns to take in the glorious form of his husband still sprawled out on their couch. Bokuto grins up at him until a look crosses his face, his expression turning serious. “Babe, I ate all the eggs this morning.”

“That’s fine, we probably have--”

“No, I don’t think there’s any meat in the fridge. We don’t have any protein for dinner.”

Tsukishima scrunches up his face, “yea, groceries were the most important errand I was going to run today. It’s fine, though. We have to have something.”

“I mean, probably? But I had a big breakfast.”

“Kou-” Tsukishima whines, throwing his head back, “what’s left?”

Together they pick through their pantry after taking stock of the rather paltry amount of dinner ingredients in their fridge. There’s something missing from any easy dish.

“We could make nachos with these beans,” Bokuto offers.

“We already ate all the chips.”

“You ate them all,” Bokuto corrects.

“There wasn’t that many left,” Tsukishima sneers before his expression breaks into a grin. “We have pasta,” he says, holding up a box.

“No spaghetti sauce, though! And no meatballs,” Bokuto pouts and Tsukishima finds it impossible to do anything but smile when he’s looking at him like that, hair still soft and messy because Bokuto saw no reason to spike it today.

“We’ll manage something good,” Tsukishima offers. He thinks back to what’s in the fridge, “Okay maybe not good, but acceptable.”

Which is how they manage together dinner - pasta with a little olive oil (“the good olive oil,” Tsukishima had insisted), a few pieces of chopped up ham they found that didn’t smell bad, and a mix of spices from their pantry.

All in all, it’s tastes fine and the mood is great. Tsukishima’s relaxed, more than he has been in a few weeks. A lazy day has been good. The company is even better.

Bokuto smiles ear-to-ear across their table. Between them they’ve lit the candle they pulled out just in case the power went out. They’ve turned off the rest of the lights in the kitchen. Bokuto was worried it would be too dark to eat. Tsukishima thinks it’s perfect.

“Happy snow day,” Bokuto says, reaching across the table to wind his fingers through Tsukishima’s.

“Happy snow day,” he repeats. He hopes that the snow will let up enough so they can at least run to the convenient store tomorrow for some food. But he also hopes it won't let up enough to warrant doing anything except the exact same thing again tomorrow.


	2. Scarf Sharing + akakuroo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ship: Kuroaka  
> prompt: scarf sharing

“It’s offensive that you can look that good in winter gear. You’re supposed to be in bulky jackets and ugly hats.” Kuroo eyes his boyfriend up and down while Akaashi locks the door to their apartment. “Aren’t you freezing?”

Akaashi throws him a look when he turns around, “it’s not that cold.” Kuroo can’t deny how attractive he is in his black, wool pea coat, long light blue scarf, and dark gloves around his slender hands. Though, he always thinks Akaashi looks nice.

Kuroo on the other hand feels like he’s fighting to keep his arms pushed down against the layers of fluff in his jacket. There’s puffy jackets, and then there’s the puffy monstrosity he found at a thrift store and immediately wanted to buy. It’s a strange shade of green (Akaashi called it “oversteamed broccoli green”) and it keeps him so warm he’ll usually start sweating about five minutes into their walk. He’s topped off the outfit with a yellow hat with a giant yarn ball on top.

His face is cold, though, and it reminds him of the temperature while the wind whips around them. “Yes it is. The high - _the high_ \- today was close to freezing and now it’s nighttime and I’m worried my boyfriend’s going to turn into a popsicle on his way to work.”

“I’ll be fine,” Akaashi bumps his shoulder on the way down the stairs to the first floor, “it’s a short walk anyway. You’re the one that has to make it all the way to campus.”

Kuroo groans into the night air, his breath leaving big, white puffs under the streetlights. “I know - _sign up for the night lab_ , they said, _then you won’t have to wake up early_. At this point, I’d take the 8 am lab.”

“No you wouldn't,” Akaashi cuts him off and while Kuroo can’t see his face, he can hear the grin in his voice. “For your twice a week 8 am I have to literally pull you out of bed, pull your _dead weight_ out of bed.”

“You’re surprisingly strong,” Kuroo chuckles.

“I know,” he replies, and Kuroo’s heart warms at the smug tone. Akaashi’s never one to sing his own praises, but he looks so pleased when Kuroo is the one saying them. He never blushes or gets embarrassed, he just casts him a sly look that Kuroo thoroughly enjoys.

Despite the weather the sidewalks aren’t empty. There are other students walking between campus and their apartments, and the streets are busy with people driving on their way home from work. They fall into step together effortlessly, both quiet spare a few funny comments from Kuroo that make Akaashi’s tiny smile appear at the corner of his mouth.

Mostly Kuroo just sneaks looks at the man beside him, wondering how on earth he isn’t freezing without a hat, but he’s glad he gets to look at his soft curls sway in the breeze and the way there’s a hint of pink of cheeks.

Outside the movie theater where Akaashi works part-time, they stop, ready to part ways. Kuroo slips a gloved hand into Akaashi’s. “So I’ll pick you up when your shift’s over?”

“You don’t have to do that,” Akaashi replies, but he squeezes Kuroo’s hand tighter.

“I will, though.”

“It’s going to be late.”

“I’ll study or something in the library to kill the time.”

Akaashi’s smile grows. “I’ll see you later, then.” His eyes dart around the way they always do when he feels Kuroo’s public displays of affection coming.

Kuroo grins wide and leans in, “See you later.” He kisses him quickly and rubs their noses together. They are both so, so cold.

“Stop it.”

“Never.”

“Mmm,” Akaashi grumbles, but then he presses a quick kiss to Kuroo’s lips before letting go of his hand. “Love you,” he says quickly.

“Love you, too.”

Akaashi looks like he’s about to say something else, but his mouth closes again and he just smiles. There’s a little nod and then he’s turning towards the theater.

***

Kuroo actually makes good use of his time in the library - until he falls asleep. His alarm sounds in his headphones and he startles awake to find that there’s now a pencil imprint along the side of his face. He gathers his things and bundles all the way back up to brave the winter temperatures once again.

Only to feel woefully unprepared. It’s disgustingly cold now, he thinks, and the wind has picked up. There’s the smell of snow in the air and he hopes for enough to fall to cancel classes sometime in the next few days.

He gets to the theater right on time, but he sees a few other people trickle out before Akaashi finally walks out of the double-doors and out onto the sidewalk. There’s no missing the way he smiles the moment his eyes catch Kuroo’s.

“I still can’t believe you waited for me,” he says, slipping their hands together.

Kuroo already feels warmer.

“I don’t know why,” Kuroo starts, “I do it most days. Well, days when I have class or I don’t have work or a project or--”

“I know,” Akaashi steps a little closer, their arms aligning as they start their trek home on the now-empty sidewalks, “but it’s freezing tonight.” 

Above them there’s not even stars to try and illuminate their walk home. Clouds cover the sky. In between the streetlights the darkness envelops them. There’s a thickness in the air and Kuroo feels it in his bones - it’s definitely going to snow.

“So you finally admit it’s cold?” Kuroo sounds smug. He awkwardly leans in to nuzzle his ice-cold nose against Akaashi’s cheek.

Akaashi pulls away, chuckling softly. “Fine, I admit it. It’s absolutely cold and I wish I had a big, ugly jacket like yours.”

Kuroo throws one of those puffy arms around Akaashi’s shoulders. “Here, I’ll share. You can apologize to my broccoli jacket whenever you want.”

“Never,” Akaashi sways as he walks, leaning in closer and trying to tuck himself under that puffy arm the best he can.

“I’ll keep him to myself then,” he starts to pull his arm away.

“No, no. Fine. Sorry you are so ugly, jacket, but thank you for keeping my boyfriend warm.”

“It accepts your half-hearted apology. It’s very kind.” Kuroo tugs Akaashi closer to him again. They stumble on the sidewalk but quickly regain their balance, slipping into step next to one another like they do most night.

A shiver runs through his body at another gust of wind. “I wish we could teleport home. My face is going to freeze off before we make it.”

He takes a few more steps, but feels Akaashi stop beside him. His arm slips off his back and he turns to the side, puzzled.

Akaashi’s lifting part of his scarf over his head. “Come here, you big baby.” He steps in close, the white puffs of air leaving his lips tickle at Kuroo’s nose. “We can share.” Once, twice he wraps his impossibly long scarf around Kuroo’s neck, covering up his chin and and his mouth, leaving it just loose enough.

Kuroo tilts his head until their foreheads meet. “Much better,” he whispers.

“I think so, too,” Akaashi agrees.

For a few moments they forget where they are, freezing on an empty sidewalk only a few blocks from their apartment. Kuroo forgets he was cold at all.

The rest of the way home, Kuroo fills Akaashi in on all the gossip from his lab - who’s passive-aggressively fighting with one another now, which teams are falling apart at the seams - and all about the chemistry he studied that wasn’t exactly for his class but he found it in a chapter the professor didn’t assign, but it was really interesting, so he read it all and --

Kuroo likes to watch Akaashi’s face as he listens, trusting that his feet won’t slip and fall on any slick patches of sidewalk while he’s distracted. If he does, Akaashi would catch him, he knows.

When they reach their front door, he stops Akaashi’s hand before it reaches the lock. Akaashi looks at him surprised.

Kuroo tugs at the scarf. He doesn’t apply enough force to actually pull them together, but his boyfriend gets the idea and shifts closer until their noses are touching. Gently Kuroo closes the small distance between them and presses their lips together. He can feel Akaashi relax against him, finally letting go of the stress at the end of a long day. He sighs against him, feeling happy. Happy and at home.

They part and he whispers against Akaashi’s lips, “I hope it snows tonight.”

Akaashi goes in for another kiss, but he’s smiling too wide for it to be just right, “I hope so, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first KuroAka! What a beautiful and powerful ship they are. And, like most of my Cozy Ficlets are shaping up to be - they are domestic AF and very much in love.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! (●⌒∇⌒●)


	3. Coffee + akatsukki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ship: AkaTsukki  
> prompt: coffee

In the past three weeks, Tsukishima has spent ¥8824 on coffee.

It's shameful.

He sits at his desk, vibrating his leg under the table. His hand feels shaky on his mouse and he feels like he might be able to smell time, like, the concept of time. It smells like oranges.

And the worst part is he's going to have to go again later because Akaashi wasn't in the cafe downstairs this morning.

It would be better if he knew Akaashi's work schedule, but he absolutely cannot ask because that's crossing about a hundred lines of creepiness.

He wraps his hands around the paper coffee cup and takes another big sip, hoping that his body will become so saturated with caffeine that he'll even out. That science checks out, right?

***

The worsening winter weather has served as a flimsy excuse to go down to the coffee shop on the ground level floor of his office building and buy whatever coffee concoction the newly-hired barista recommends that day.

The first day, Tsukishima ordered in a sleepy daze and didn’t look up until it came time to pay and he spilled hot coffee on his hands because the sheer amount of attractiveness surprised him.

By the third day, he had managed to read hot barista’s name tag and decided that Akaashi was a lovely surname.

By the eighth day, Akaashi had figured out that Tsukishima liked things sweet, like way too sweet, and started really piling on the fresh whipped cream.

On day twelve of Tsukishima’s new caffeine habit, Akaashi started recommending things that weren’t on the menu.

By the third week, Tsukishima managed to exchange proper small talk while his drink was being made. Popular topics included the weather and -- okay, just the weather. He has no idea how to flirt and is painfully aware that flirting with someone who is working puts them in an awkward position. So. Weather.

And yesterday, Tsukishima learned that Akaashi is a graduate student at the college nearby.

***

“It’s a little warmer today,” he says stiffly as Akaashi turns around to start making his drink. It’s a white chocolate monstrosity that’s more sugar than coffee. Honestly, he’s been afraid of the caffeine but it’s probably going to be the sugar that does him in.

“My walk here was pretty nice,” Akaashi adds and there’s a smile at the corner of his mouth.

Nope, forget sugar. That little grin is going to be what happily kills him.

“There’s snow in the forecast, though.”

Akaashi runs the steamer, then replies the moment it’s done, “I saw that. On Friday, right?” Finished, he turns towards the register where Tsukishima is waiting with wallet.

“Yep,” he says and wracks his brain for something else to say. Akaashi’s eyes are on his and he has to look down. He pretends he needs to dig for change again. “I don’t much care for snow when I have places to be, but if I’m trapped at home with snow, then that’s quite alright.”

As he hands over the money, he braves a question, “do you like snow?”

The little smile grows. “I like when it’s fresh, still soft. The mush that comes later is the worst.” Akaashi slides the drink between them slowly.

Tsukishima can feel other words trying to tumble out of his mouth, but he can’t quite bring himself to say them. He’s already so worried about looking dumb, concerned with what his arms, his face, his everything is doing at any given moment during this interaction.

“Have a good rest of the day,” Akaashi smiles.

“Thanks, you too.”

Tsukishima leaves and decides that was a perfectly fine interaction, but utterly and entirely unsatisfying.

***

The next day he’s already in line before he realizes Akaashi isn’t there. He sighs to himself and debates staying in line and getting something soothing like an herbal tea or just ditching and coming back later. He checks phone so he can pretend he has some reason to leave, like anyone in the cafe even cares. Turning on his heel, he prepares to depart in defeat, but the back door of the cafe opens and Akaashi tumbles in, snowflakes dotting his jacket.

“Sorry, sorry,” he manages to his coworkers. He’s a carefully orchestrated fury of actions as he rids himself of his coat and finds his apron.

Tsukishima realizes he’s staring the moment Akaahi’s eyes lock on to his. He’s tying his apron behind his back and his expression changes. He stops. He smiles. His cheeks are pink from the temperature and he is smiling and Tsukishima has no idea what his face looks like right now but he’s worried. He’s pretty sure he looks rather dumb right now because that smile makes him feel all sorts of happy and dumb.

Akaashi raises his hand and gives a small wave before joining the hustle behind the counter.

Tsukishima turns back to stay in the line because now his heart is pounding in his chest and he feels it -- today is going to be the day he talks about more than the weather.

“Get caught in the weather?” Tsukishima asks once he’s at the front of the line. Through his nerves, he makes a grin of his own, tries to make his muscles move in a way that makes it look nice, not creepy. This man makes him forget what humans normally do with their faces. This man makes him want to do more than his normal apathetic scowl.

“Got caught in class. The weather didn’t help, though,” Akaashi grins, already making a drink even though Tsukishima didn’t order.

Tsukishima watches him work, how deftly his hands move between the machines. He watches fresh strawberries get scooped into the mix. “Strawberries, my favorite,” Tsukishima says the moment he notices. He pushes himself to be bold, “how did you know?” Did he sound flirty? He has no idea. He tried.

“You mentioned it,” Akaashi grins, “a few days ago. Now there’s not really that much coffee in here, but you seem to like the dessert ones, so--”

“It’s perfect,” Tsukishima says before Akaashi’s even done.

The barista pauses in his work, a different expression on his face. Tsukishima can’t quite read it but it stirs up the nerves in his stomach.

Akaashi’s hands disappear behind a machine as he finishes. He seems to take his time, more than normal, and Tsukishima fiddles with his wallet while he waits so he’ll stop staring already.

“I hope you’re still saying that when you taste it,” Akaashi sets the drink on the counter. His fingers drum up and down the side of the cardboard sleeve around the drink before one of his hands wrap around the cup again.

“I will,” Tsukishima replies quickly, pushing out the rest of the words before he can stop himself again, “I’ve liked everything you’ve made.”

“Even the weird ones?” Akaashi asks, a smirk on his lips.

This is definitely more than he’s seen Akaashi talk to his other customers. There has to something there, right? He feels a bit stronger. He pushes again, adding a smirk of his own. “Especially the weird ones.”

“Well,” Akaashi finally takes his hand off the cup and slides it towards Tsukishima, “I hope you like this one. I added something a little different this time.” For a moment, the grin slips off his face and he busies himself with the register.

Tsukishima pays, noting the way his wallet is getting emptier by the day but he can’t seem to find the will to care. “Can’t wait to see.”

He makes it three steps out the front door before he moves his hands and realizes there’s a phone number written on the cardboard sleeve. Shocked, he spins and looks back into the shop.

Akaashi is staring back at him, eyes wider than normal.

Tsukishima feels his lips grow into what is definitely a surprised, goofy, stupid grin. He nods, feeling the winter chill completely melt away as his heart explodes in the best way.

Money well spent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn't love a coffee shop AU? (*⌒▽⌒)ﾉ It brings me life. Simple things are the finest things. Yay for tropes!
> 
> I like the idea of the two stoic-seeming hotties being absolutely awful at communicating their attraction. Imagining them as pining disasters is such fun.


	4. Bokuroo + onesies + blankets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ship: bokuroo  
> prompt: onesies + blankets

“Okay,” Kuroo announces, his hands over his eyes. “On the count of three. One, two, three!” He turns, his eyes still covered and he peeks through his fingers at where Bokuto is standing on the other side of their bedroom dressed in a very fluffy wolf onesie.

Bokuto bursts out laughing and Kuroo is quick to follow.

“Babe, you make an excellent fox,” Bokuto says through his wide grin.

Kuroo tugs on the hood to pull it down over his forehead a little further, making sure the fox ears are perfectly in place. He wiggles his eyebrows, lowering his voice, “why thank you. And you make a very adorable wolf.”

Bokuto sticks out his bottom lip, “not adorable. I’m strong.” He stands up straighter, squaring his shoulders. “And fierce.”

“You are both of those things,” Kuroo smiles, taking the few steps necessary to cross their bedroom to wrap his arms around his now very fluffy husband, “but also adorable.”

Kuroo feels two big arms wrap around his shoulders and pull him into a crushing hug. He hums happily against Bokuto’s shoulder and closes his eyes, squeezing him back tighter around his middle.

“You know, we could just go back to bed like this,” Kuroo mumbles sleepily after a few moments.

“No way,” Bokuto crushes him with love just a little bit more before letting go, “we have a full day planned!”

Kuroo snickers, “a full day of nothing.”

Bokuto lifts his chin and announces with authority, “Rest isn’t nothing and fun is important.”

***

When they bought the onesies online one drunken evening in, they promised that when they arrived they’d spend the whole day in them doing whatever they wanted. For Kuroo that meant watching movies and playing video games, but Bokuto had other ideas. Oh, there’d be movies, but also --

“I know the best way to construct a blanket fort, you gotta trust me,” Bokuto says, his tone far more serious than the situation requires. He’s staring at what they have so far, two blankets hanging from three of their kitchen chairs, rubbing his chin, deep in thought. The fact that he has the wolf hood up only makes Kuroo’s heart feel impossibly warmer at the sight.

“I trust you, I trust you,” Kuroo replies, bringing in another load of blankets from the closet.

It takes the better part of an hour to get everything the way Bokuto envisioned, then they’re settled in their home for the day underneath a roof of blankets and sitting on a floor of every pillow in their home. It’s lumpy and hard to sit up right, but with the pure joy radiating from Bokuto’s smile right now, Kuroo wouldn't trade any part of it.

“So what are we going to do first in our fort?” Kuroo asks, giving in to the comfort of the pillows and lying down so that his head is resting on Bokuto’s thigh. He looks up at his husband’s face.

Bokuto looks down at him, running his fingers through Kuroo’s uncharacteristically loose black hair under his fox-eared hood. “Your turn to pick what we do next, my little fox.” His hand trails a gentle line along the side of Kuroo’s face, down his chin, before it settles on his chest just above Kuroo’s heart.

“I kinda like exactly what we’ve got going on now,” he smirks, “but if I had to pick an activity--”

“You do.”

Kuroo laughs. “If I had to pick, I want to play Mario Kart on your old 64.”

“Awesome, yes,” Bokuto practically jumps into action and Kuroo has to lift his own head before it drops onto the pillow-floor where Bokuto’s legs used to be. “But we’re gonna have to blow out that wall in the fort so we can see the TV. Then I can kick your ass in Kart until the old thing overheats.”

***

The afternoon is then spent enjoyably wasting time doing whatever they want, taking turns choosing each time. Bokuto picks a movie. Kuroo decides halfway through that he’d rather make out then pay attention. So naturally, Bokuto gets to pick the next movie. Actually Bokuto chooses most of the day’s activities because Kuroo keeps spending his choices on making them both a little too hot for onesies.

Dinner in the fort proves to be a bit of a challenge. They end up removing the pillows so they can eat on the floor, hunched over their plates like the half-human, half-onesie-animals they are that day. The original plan was to make spaghetti, one of their go-to meal for lazy days, but both of them were far too worried about getting sauce on their new, fluffy spirit animals.

So Kuroo makes them a small mountain of grilled cheese sandwiches. It pairs well with the expensive whiskey Kuroo got as a work present.

Cozy, warm, and settled in front of their dinner, Kuroo raises his glass as if to toast to something.

Bokuto mirrors the motion, but a questioning eyebrow, “what are we toasting to?”

“Nothing really,” Kuroo smiles softly as his eyes lock with his husband’s, “just thanks for being you.”

Kuroo has about two seconds to worry about putting down his drink before Bokuto’s tackled him to the floor and is pressing sloppy kisses against any skin his lips can find. Kuroo laughs hard and wraps his arms around Bokuto’s middle, locking him in place before the onslaught of kisses slows and he can kiss him back properly.

When Bokuto finally pulls back just enough to look at Kuroo’s face, they’re both grinning, still so stupidly in love even after all their years together.

Bokuto goes back in to kiss Kuroo’s forehead before letting out a contented sigh. “Thanks for being you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Krtsk is my otp, but my word, do I love bokuroo. (●˙꒳˙●)  
> Their life together would be so fun and so filled with warmth, wouldn't it?


	5. bokuaka + fresh cookies + hot chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ship: bokuaka  
> Prompt: fresh cookies + hot chocolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is so overly sweet and fluffy it might hurt your teeth. Oh heavens, what is this?

If there’s one thing Akaashi both loves and hates about his boyfriend, it’s how effortlessly sweet Bokuto is. Seemingly everyday, the big, loveable, muscly man is thinking up little ways to brighten up Akaashi’s day. No, no even thinking. Just doing.

He just goes to the store and comes back with a bag of candy because “the frog on the front made me think of your face when you’re thinking about something really hard.” 

Or doodles him a short comic while taking the bus home from practice about Akaashi the Knight who saves Prince Bokuto from the top of a scary mountain. And yea, it’s all stick figures and the paper is wrinkled, but Akaashi immediately hung it up in their bedroom and he’s never taking it down.

In the moment, these little things send Akaashi over the moon every single time, reminding him of just how much he loves Bokuto a little more everyday. But then, a little later, the heavy weight of guilt starts to settle on his shoulders again. It’s not that he doesn’t love Bokuto as much, he just doesn’t think the same way.

Bokuto tells him that Akaashi takes care of him, so he knows he loves him. “You always clean the dishes after I cook. You do the laundry and make our house smell nice. You don’t fuss at me when my hair is all over the bathroom. And you always put my blankets back on me when I kick them off in the middle of the night.”

While true, he wants to do something spontaneous, something everyday-sort-of special. Which is why he has a plan. _A spontaneous plan_ , he tells himself, sure that’s an acceptable phrase.

Bokuto should be home from practice in a little over an hour. Akaashi got home from work a little a later than usual because he had to stop by the store to get flour, butter, eggs, sugar (both brown and white), vanilla, baking powder, chocolate chips, milk, and cocoa powder. As he struggles to carry all the bags plus his awkward bag from work (that keeps irritatingly slipping off his shoulder) up to their third floor apartment, he makes a mental note to go to the grocery store _before_ they don’t have anything in the pantry or the fridge next time.

Once inside, he sets his work bag down in the same place he puts it everyday, carefully takes the ingredients out of the bags and arranges them on the counter, and goes to their bedroom to shed the layers he’s forced to wear in the real word and changes into soft, well-worn comfy clothes, including his favorite huge sweatshirt (that all happen to be Bokuto’s, like almost everything he wears at home).

Back in the kitchen, he pulls up the recipe he found earlier. It promised to be “fool-proof” and “good for baking with children” so he decided he could probably pull this off. The kitchen was more Bokuto’s realm, but he helped make dinner and he bakes sometimes -- there was that potluck they went to where he made a pie, and okay that was a year ago, and Bokuto helped.

He sighs, letting out his frustration, then squares his shoulders and sets his mind on the task ahead. If he does everything as carefully and as precisely as possible, there will be no room for error.

Turns out, there is room for error in anything. Looking at the much too hard first batch, Akaashi whines and chides himself for _ruining it with his thinking_. The recipe clearly said 10-12 minutes. Just because they didn’t look done after 12 doesn’t mean they weren’t.

Akaashi takes another deep breath in, holds it, then lets it all rush out before he begins again. This time he’ll follow the recipe exactly.

While the second batch bakes in the oven, he tries one of the hard cookies. They’re certainly crispier than anyone would want, but he wouldn't call them burnt. He revises his earlier assessment. They’re not ruined, simply _crispy._

After exactly 11 minutes, Akaashi removes the second batch. He sets the timer for one minute and lets them remain on the baking sheet like the recipe says. The second the timer sounds, he’s hovering over the sheet working quickly to gently remove the hot cookies and place them on the cooling racks.

Once they’re all resting safely, he stands back and admires his work. They look good, sure, but they smell even better. He smiles to himself thinking of the look Bokuto’s going to have on his face when he walks in.

Methodically he cleans the counters, putting everything away and making sure not a speck of flour is left on the surface. Akaashi looks at the clock on the microwave. Bokuto should be home soon, but he’s hasn’t texted yet, so he’s not sure. He looks at the ingredients he left out to make hot chocolate and bites his lip. If it’s lukewarm chocolate, that simply won’t due, but ideally he’d like to have the entire treat set out in the living room, ready to enjoy the moment Bokuto walks in. That was the _plan_.

Akaashi sends a quick text, asking if practice is done.

And instantly gets Bokuto’s signature “I pressed send too quickly” replies all in a row.

>> all done  
>> on the bus  
>> going slow bc  
>> it got all rainy all of a sudden  
>> should be  
>> home soon  
>> maaaaaaybe 15 minutes  
>> i got a good story for you too babe  
>> i laughed so hard at practice  
>> i almost peed

God, he loves this man. He closes his eyes, holding his phone to his chest, for a moment before setting the timer on the microwave for 15 minutes so he can time everything perfectly. In the meantime, Akaashi sets to setting out the correct measurements of milk, cocoa powder, and sugar. Then he searches on the internet for milk boiling times so he can estimate.

12 minutes to go.

Akaashi gets one of their nicer plates out of a cabinet and arranges the cookies in two, neat, overlapping ovals. The crispy ones are hidden on the bottom. He steps back to see how it looks, decides it does not look _spontaneous_ at all, and moves three cookies askew, just a little. Much better.

He pours the milk into the smallest pot they have and turns on the burner. Then he gets the plate of cookies and sets them on their coffee table, sliding back into the kitchen on his socks to add the rest of the ingredients for the hot chocolate. No room for error, he reminds himself.

Holding the whisk and stirring in the sugar and cocoa mixture as the milk begins to simmer, Akaashi feels like he actually belongs in their kitchen (as more than Bokuto’s helper and as the dish washer).

2 minutes to go.

He sets the burner on the lowest setting and pulls out their favorite mugs. They’re a set they got on vacation up in Sapporo one year. The mugs are decorated with scenes from the annual snow festival, but for Akaashi, they’re reminders of the night Bokuto asked Akaashi if he would maybe, kind of, sort of consider leaving Tokyo and living with him once he joined his new team. Bokuto had been so nervous, as if Akaashi would say anything other than “yes.”

The timer on the microwave beeps while Akaashi is setting up the living room to be exactly how he pictured it. He stands a little prouder, taking in the whole sight once he’s done. The house smells so good and it’s definitely going to be a happy, little surprise.

He hears keys in the door and spins around, prepped to stand in the doorway and welcome him in. A split second before, though, he decides that looks way too forced and he sits on the couch, leaning back and trying to look like he’d been sitting there all along.

“Keiji I’m -- oh man, what’s that smell?”

Akaashi listens to the sounds of his boyfriend settling his bags on the floor and sliding out of his shoes and socks so his bare feet smack on the hardwood floors as he comes closer. Akaashi turns his head in time to see Bokuto coming down the hallway, seemingly following his nose like some character out of an old cartoon.

“Welcome home,” Akaashi grins as Bokuto’s eyes open wider and his own lips stretch into a huge smile. He braces himself as two strong arms circle around his side and practically lift him up from the couch.

“What’s all this, little bug?” Bokuto asks, still hugging Akaashi much too hard, just the way he likes.

“It’s nothing,” his voice is a little strained and Bokuto lets go. Akaashi settles back onto the couch cushion and looks up, patting the spot beside him. “Just a little treat after a long day.”

“I love it,” Bokuto plops down on the couch. He leans over to press a kiss to Akaashi’s cheek while digging in his back pocket. He moves to settle back into his seat, but Akaashi catches his face between his hands and kisses him properly first. There’s no getting away that quickly.

“I have a treat for you, too,” Bokuto presents a folded-up piece of paper. Akaashi takes it carefully while Bokuto reaches for two cookies and instantly puts one in his mouth. “Oh my god, these are good. And still warm!”

“There’s hot chocolate, too,” Akaashi adds, unfolding the paper to reveal a sequel to the first Akaashi the Knight. He laughs softly, “what is the Knight saving Prince Bokuto from this time?”

Bokuto shakes his head. There’s crumbs on his lips and he’s already diving in to his second cookie. “No rescue needed. This time they’re going on an adventure together.”

Akaashi watches his boyfriend dribble crumbs down his shirt then wash everything down with too-loud slurps from his mug and, so help him, he loves every part of it. “Mmm, together. That sounds about right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fluff ╭(♡･ㅂ･)و ̑̑ it makes me feel strong. (≧∇≦*)  
> Hope you enjoyed my bkak fix for the cozy ficlet collection!  
> The plan is to get a krtsk started and finished by the end of tomorrow so I can BINGO the whole dang board before the new year. Wahoooooo, fluff overload!


	6. Kurotsukki + fresh snow + mulled wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ship: kurotsukki (otp represent!!!)  
> Prompts: fresh snow + mulled wine
> 
> It's still December 31st for me, so I'm in just under the wire! I wanted to get this out so I could fill out my prompt bingo board before December finished and we're there! I hope you enjoy!

Kuroo unlocks his front door and steps inside, surprised to find their apartment dark. From around the corner, it seems like one of their dimmer lamps might be on in the living room, but usually Tsukishima has the place lit up, the sounds of cooking dinner coming from their kitchen.

He shakes off the dust of snowflakes that collected on his coat on the short walk home from the station. “Kei, you home?” There’s an undeniably wonderful scent coming from their kitchen, but it’s definitely not dinner. Cinnamon and spices fill the air.

“Yea, just in here,” Tsukishima replies, his voice coming from the dim living room.

“What’re you sitting in the dark for? He turns a corner to enter the room, his hand on a light switch, but he stops short, taking in the sight that greets him.

Tsukishima’s in the center of their well-worn, comfy couch, his back to Kuroo. The curtains are open on the large, floor-length windows in the center of the opposite wall, and through them Kuroo can see what his husband is staring at. With almost all the lights off, the darkness outside creates the perfect backdrop to watch the clumps of new snow fall past their window.

Over his shoulder, Tsukishima looks back at him, a soft smile on his lips. “Welcome home,” he says and turns back to the view.

Kuroo’s heart warms at the sight, the chill from his commute home in the freezing air already melting away fast, and he only gets warmer when he joins Tsukishima, taking a seat right next to him, leaving most of the couch empty.

Tsukishima makes a small sound of annoyance, jerking away. “My god, you’re cold.”

“Warm me up, please,” Kuroo whines, shoving his cold nose into his husband’s neck and slipping his hands around his sweater. He doesn’t slip his hands underneath the sweater, even though that would be far warmer, because he doesn’t quite feel like getting smacked right now.

One of Tsukishima’s arms wraps around his shoulders, the other is holding a mug far away from the both of them, trying to keep it steady. Tsukishima lifts his foot, wrapped in thick, fluffy socks, and points to another mug on their coffee table. “That’ll warm you up, too.”

“Is that what I was smelling?” Kuroo leans forward, wrapping his frigid fingers around the warm mug. It stings a little, but in the best way. He settles back under Tsukishima’s arm and breathes in what he now recognizes as the little satchels of mulling spices Tsukishima’s been throwing into their cheaper red wines whenever they’ve had friends over for the past week.

“Once the snow started, it felt fitting.”

Kuroo hums, agreeing happily. He takes a sip of the mulled wine and it’s just a bit past comfortably hot and warms his tongue a little too much, but he likes the way it warms him all the way down. “Well this was certainly an adorable thing to come home to,” Kuroo says, nuzzling his slightly warmer nose back against his husband’s neck.

This time, Tsukishima doesn’t push him away, but he does click his tongue at being called adorable. “Not adorable. Calm, maybe. Quiet, yes.”

“Agree to disagree,” Kuroo smiles, and presses a kiss to his neck before pressing another to his jaw, then his cheek. Tsukishima turns, a smile on his lips, and they meet for their first proper kiss since they both left the house this morning.

Kuroo settles back against Tsukishima’s arm, leaning close against his body, and they sit in silence, spare the sounds of sipping from their mugs, as they both watch the snow fall. Kuroo watches the snowfall gradually grow quicker, the smaller snowflakes beginning to fall together in larger clumps of heavy snow.

After a while, Tsukishima’s hand creeps up from around Kuroo’s shoulder to run up his neck and through the short hairs at the back of his head. Gently, Kuroo feels himself being pulled closer and he goes willingly. Tsukishima hums contentedly before placing a kiss to the top of his head and letting him return to his spot, just a bit closer than before.

“Do you want to play a game?” Kuroo asks.

Tsukishima chuckles quietly, “a what? Why?”

“A game. Twenty questions.”

Beside him, Tsukishima sighs, but sets down his now empty mug and continues holding him close. “Sure, Tetsu, why not?”

Kuroo takes another sip from his mug and says with a grin, “okay, but you go first.”

He can hear the snark in Tsukishima’s voice when he replies, “so you want to play this game and I’m the one that has to go first?”

“Yes,” Kuroo replies, grinning wider even though Tsukishima can’t see.

“Fine,” Tsukishima says sharply, but there’s no bite to it. Kuroo knows he’s grinning, too, from the tone in his voice. Tsukishima’s head comes to gently rest on top of Kuroo’s. “I picked. Start guessing.”

“Is it…” Kuroo glances around the room. If he knows his husband, and truly he does, then he knows Tsukishima’s picked something easy so his round will be done as quickly as possible. “Is it something in this room?

“Yes.”

“Is it alive?”

“No.”

“Is it,” he scans the room again and his eyes land on Tsukishima’s plants by the window, “alive?”

“No.”

“Is it smaller than our couch?”

“Yes.”

“Is it smaller than my hand?”

“Yes? Depends on how you--”

“Nope only yes or no. So it’s kind of hand-sized. Um…” Kuroo’s eyes land on their coffee table. “Is it our remote?”

“No.”

“Is it your mug?”

“Yes.”

“Nailed it,” Kuroo congratulates himself on an easy victory.

The arm around him closes in closer and he feels Tsukishima poke him in his cheek. “Your turn.”

Kuroo smiles to himself. There was a reason he suggested this. “I already thought about mine.”

“Of course you did.”

“Go! Guess.”

“Is it something electronic?”

“No.”

“Is it in our house right now?”

“Yes.”

“Is it in the kitchen?”

“No.”

Tsukishima cuddles a bit closer, tucking his arm more firmly around Kuroo’s shoulders. “Is it in this room?”

“Yes.”

“Is it something you can eat?” Tsukishima’s foot points to the bowl of popcorn in the center of their coffee table.

“No,” Kuroo snickers to himself, lowering his voice to say, “but it is a _snack_.”

Tsukishima groans and his head falls on the back of the couch. “Is it me?”

Kuroo laughs, “yes!” He cranes his neck to press a messy kiss on his husband’s cheek. “Because I’m always thinking about you.”

“Oh that’s so cheesy. You’re the worst,” Tsukishima says, but when he turns his face so he’s looking directly into Kuroo’s eyes, they’re filled with a soft joy. Tsukishima presses their noses together, then their foreheads meet. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Never, not when I’m around you.”

“Guess I chose this for life, didn’t I?” Tsukishima pulls away just enough to reposition himself, his lips moving closer to Kuroo’s own.

“You did. You promised in front of a room full of people that you picked this forever.”

“Hmm,” Tsukishima hums, his lips now hovering close enough that Kuroo feels his words leave in soft breaths, “I can think of worse things.”

Kuroo closes his eyes as his favorite person’s lips melt against his own, tender and gentle. There’s no heat, only a slow-burning warmth, the kind that reminds Kuroo of just how lucky he is. He kisses back to say without words how Tsukishima makes him feel, like no matter where they are or what they’re doing, as long as they’re together, he’s home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° Happy New Year!
> 
> I literally wrote this just for the "snack" line. Ha.
> 
> I hope this small serving of krtsk fluff brings a smile to the end/beginning of your year depending on when you read this. Thanks for enjoying these little ficlets along the way. I hope they brought you some warm and fuzzies!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! (°◡°♡).:｡ I hope you enjoyed some short, fluffy fun.
> 
> Every kudos, bookmark, and comment fills my writer heart with warm, fuzzies (and I always reply)!
> 
> Also, come scream with me on Twitter about haikyuu - [@HeyMellieJellie](https://twitter.com/HeyMellieJellie).


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